Perfect
by Guns and Illusions
Summary: Jemima and Tumblebrutus are perfect together...or are they? An eventual little love triangle.
1. A Kiss

**A/N: So...this happened. I'm planning for this to be multi-chapter, but for now it's a Tumble x Jemi drabble. All fluff! ^-^**

"Tumble, stop!"

Tumblebrutus chuckled, his paws reaching out, fingers wiggling. He clambered clumsily around the queen, managing to tickle the side of her stomach. Jemima scurried back, squealing, a huge smile on her face. He could watch that smile for hours and never tire of it.

He dove at her again and she twisted around, lighting fast, and grasped his paws in hers. Looking as if it required all her strength, she pinned them both down onto the bedsheets, effectively stopping his tickling. "Tumble, please," she got out between choked laughter. "You need to stop!"

Tumblebrutus relaxed his paws in hers, watching her with gentle eyes. "Okay, okay, I'm done," he told her soothingly. He gave her a wry grin, letting his whole body still. They'd been playing this game for about half and hour now, but Jemima still hadn't gotten a decent tickle on him. She watched him distrustfully, her eyes squinting playfully. After a few seconds pause, the tom making sure not to move, she began to lift her paws from his.

Big mistake. Tumblebrutus launched himself towards her, tickling her with a renewed fiery ferocity. She collapsed like putty beneath him, giggling and choking for breath.

Once finally satisfied, he joined her, both of them clutching their stomachs with laughter. After it had subsided, they lay in quiet peace, at first breathing heavily and then quieting. Tumblebrutus gave a sideways glance at Jemima, his tail swishing. The calico queen was staring up at the ceiling, a small smile on her pixie face. She was so unbelievably beautiful. He wondered if she knew, if she could sense how he was feeling. Jemima had a way of reading people. Even his father had noticed. "That queen is a quiet thing, but she sure is sharp," had been his words. So could she see? Did she know everything he was thinking right now, or perhaps suspected that he wanted something else?

They had been close friends since birth. Born only a few weeks apart, Tumblebrutus the senior, they had been almost inseparable during the first few months only because they were about the same size. Best friends. They'd played and laughed and joked with each other for as long as he could remember. Of course, now she had Victoria. In a weird way, Tumblebrutus was irritatingly jealous of her. He knew a lot about Jemima, but he was sure Victoria knew more. He saw them sometimes, whispering and giggling like queens do. It frustrated him even if it was a ridiculous frustration.

He had a tom best friend himself, Pouncival, but it wasn't the same. Jemima was friends with him too, but he had never been friends with Victoria. She was older than them, and annoyingly protective of Jemima. Whenever they were having a 'girl's talk', she would turn her back on him, nose up, and Jemima would join her with a giggle. She wouldn't even spare Tumblebrutus an apologetic smile when he would ask after her.

Did she talk to Victoria about him? Most of the kits knew they were friends, but he was sure none of them knew how close they really were. Embarrassing moments had been shared, tears had been shed, dire secrets had been whispered over wrinkled pillowcases…back when they were young enough to have sleepovers.

She had told him things she considered deathly important, like how she thought Tugger's new shoes were ugly or how Vicky could sometimes be vapid. He remembered that dig very precisely because he had spent the next five minutes chanting 'vapid Vicky' until Jemima had wapped him on the nose in annoyance. He wondered if she ever told the white queen things that bothered her about him. Could he be too, hmm, what started with a T…talkative? Did they chant 'Talkative Tumble' at their sleepovers? Which, by the way, was still accepted since they were both queens.

Tumblebrutus doubted it. But in any case, he could not deny how he felt about her. It seemed like one day a light bulb had gone off in his head and he began to think of her as beautiful. Slowly that transitioned into perfect, and now he couldn't remember what it had been like before he had felt this way. And watching her rest beside him, her eyes wide and blinking up at nothing, that feeling was growing ever stronger.

"Jemima," he said softly, and his tail stilled beside him, unconsciously so.

She tilted her head towards him, the small smile widening slightly. "Tumblebrutus," she answered teasingly. He stared at her just long enough to see her eyebrows shift into a slight frown. There. She saw it, whatever it was. She knew.

Perhaps that was what convinced him to do it. Later, he would think and could not remember for the life of him what had given him the bravery. But he thought perhaps that was it-the way that something had changed in her soft brown eyes, sensing that he wanted something... something _else_.

He leaned over just slightly-they were only inches apart anyway- and gently kissed her on the mouth.

At first she didn't react, and something inside of him froze cold, but then…but then. There was a soft pressure, and she was kissing him back. It only lasted a few seconds, too short. But he would still remember that kiss for the rest of his life, way past his adult years. It was the kiss he would compare all others to, the warm, hesitant kiss that lasted barely longer than a couple blinks.

When they drew away, her eyes were even wider then before, surprised and faintly happy. Her mouth was still in that smile, and a slight blush coloured her cheeks. "Tumble?" she asked, her voice lilting and high.

"Jemi?" he asked back, in that same teasing tone, and they both began to laugh, at first shyly and then as they had laughed a thousand times before. _My best friend, _he thought happily, and then, _Take that, Victoria._

From somewhere beside him he felt the brush of her paw against his, and the fingers slowly interlaced. They'd held hands before, just the same as this, but somehow…somehow…it wasn't.

Because this time, it was perfect.

**Another A/N: Yay! Please review and thanks for reading! :)**


	2. Lonely

**A/N: Gah! Sorry for the errors. Re-uploading this now. :P**

"He did _not,_" Victoria gasped, a white paw raised to the perfect 'o' of her mouth. Her tail flicked behind her, which Jemima had learned to read as annoyance. For a moment she was uncomprehending. Vicky should be happy for her -not annoyed- and all that tail flick did was make Jemima a bit annoyed herself. But Victoria had always had trouble accepting a friend's triumph without jealousy, which Jemima had also learned. And so she elected to ignore it.

"He did," she said instead, keeping her tone bubbly. Was it bad that she hated this? Sharing the low-down on your crushes should be the juiciest, most exciting part of two queens' discussions, but right now Jemima wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out.

Victoria lowered her perfectly manicured paw from her perfectly 'o' shaped mouth and let out a breathy giggle. "Everlasting Cat, you have a tomfriend!" She dived at Jemima with perfectly white arms outstretched and enveloped her in a hug. "Jemi has a tomfriend!"

Jemima frowned into her friend's white fur, reluctantly hugging her back. She hadn't thought of it that way. Was Tumble her tomfriend now? All they'd done was kiss. Did that mean…they weren't _friends_ anymore? _How weird, _she mused, face buried in white fur. _One little thing can change our whole relationship. Can I be his friend and his queenfriend at the same time? _She supposed yes, her mom had constantly told her that being friends was the basis of a good relationship, but suddenly doing the things she had used to do with Tumble seemed weird. Good they tickle each other without it being awkward? Could they take walks without some strange romantic tension?

Jemima considered asking Vicky, but she knew the white queen probably couldn't help. She'd never had a tomfriend, so she wouldn't know. _But also, _a snarky voice in her head whispered, _she's never had just a _friend_ that's a tom. How would she know the difference between romantic tension and a tom just being nice?_

Victoria had drawn away, a placid smile on her face. To Jemima, it looked a touch too strained. "I need to get us snacks," the queen announced, and got to her perfectly groomed feet. "And then we can girl-chat about this whole thing. Best friends kiss and tell, am I right?" She let out a tinkly perfect laugh, twirling out of the room before Jemima could answer. Seriously. She twirled out of the room.

Jemima felt agitation beginning to ebb from somewhere inside. No, she wasn't right. Why should she need to describe her first kiss to her? _So that she can imagine someone has already kissed her, _that snarky voice answered. Jemima swished her tail as if to swish away the voice. _Shut up, _she thought back. _Vicky and I are best friends. _

"Congrats."

Jemima's head snapped up. The voice was dry and unreadable. "Quaxo," she said in surprise. The small black tom was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and one foot behind the other. "I didn't see you there," she managed, cheeks turning slightly pink.

He smiled wryly. "Nobody generally does." There was a pause in which Jemima had to look away. There was something about Victoria's brother that had always made it hard to have a proper conversation with him. He was so unreadable and distant. She was never sure how he was feeling. "So…heard you got a tomfriend."

Jemima felt her cheeks colour further. "Well, I don't know about _that, _he hasn't asked me yet or anything so-"

"Do you think he will?" Quaxo cut her flustered talk off.

Jemima shrugged noncommittally, giving no response even though they both knew the answer was yes. She kept her paws in her lap, fingers twisting about each other.

Quaxo pushed himself off the doorframe with a sigh. "Well, Vic's going to be insanely jealous. She probably already is." He grinned boyishly.

At this Jemima forced herself to meet his eyes. "What do you mean by _that?_"

He shrugged, that grin still on his face. It had softened slightly, and suddenly he looked indescribably vulnerable. "It's Vicky. What do you think I mean?"

Jemima bit her lip. He was probably right. Not probably right, just right. She'd been friends with Victoria long enough to know.

"She really shouldn't be, we both saw this coming," came Quaxo's voice. The phrase should've sounded disapproving, but the way he said it Jemima had no idea what he was really feeling. She studied him from where she sat, his black frame unmoving.

"Now you're just confusing me," she told him carefully.

Quaxo shook his head, his mouth turned up in a gentle smile. "I'll see you round, Jemima." With that he turned and left the room. Jemima shook her head in stark confusion. A few moments passed in the silent room, and for some reason she felt utterly alone.

"Here we go!" came a high voice. She turned to see her perfectly perfect friend enter the room, a bag of chips in each hand. The sight of her only made Jemima lonelier. "I bet we'll be done both these bags by the time I'm done with you." Victoria giggled and sat herself down, fluffing her perfect fur before reaching for a bag.

Jemima felt a part of her die inside.

**A/N: Alrighty. As usual, please review and thanks for reading! :)**


	3. Crush

**A/N: So...honestly I really hated writing this chapter, but I feel like it needs to go up. Quaxo needs some time in the spotlight before I can move on with the plot. So here it is :).**

Quaxo lounged in silence on the TSE-1, trying not to look at Jemima and Tumblebrutus but unable not to. It was like that morbid fascination he had had as a kit when Victoria had broken her arm. He _didn't _want to look; yet he _did. _He was unable to not see. Well, comparing a young couple and a bloody mess of bones and flesh might be a long-shot comparison, but it _felt_ the same. They were walking around the Yard together in wide loops, chatting and laughing. In their own little world. Every so often they'd pass right in front of him and he'd force himself to look away. No other cat had joined him on the car hood to sunbathe, which didn't come as a surprise. The cats usually left him alone. Which, in all honesty, was the way he liked it. Although a distraction from the couple would be nice.

A white cat appeared from the shadows, as if answering his plea. "Quaxo!"

He turned at the voice, recognizing it instantly and smiling. "Vicky," he answered her, not as loud as she had called him, but just as enthusiastic. She made a perfect companion. The queen jumped up onto the hood and gave him a nuzzle, settling down beside him.

"Nice day, isn't it?" Victoria smiled, stretching out. Quaxo nodded and they lapsed into silence, side by side on their stomachs, heads facing towards the Yard. "Do you want to come hunting with me later?" she asked after a while, voice lazy and luxurious in the sun. He opened his mouth to answer, but just then Jemima and Tumblebrutus walked past, hand-in-hand with only eyes for each other. His sister's question was instantly forgotten. He felt his eyes slide away and then back towards the two, drawn like magnets. Victoria waited patiently, then followed his gaze and gave a knowing little gasp. "Quaxo?"

"Oh, sorry," he said quickly, and laughed nervously. "Yeah, yeah, hunting. We could…" he paused, seeing his sister's face, "…do that."

The queen studied him silently, her blue eyes filled with inquisition. Sometimes Quaxo could not believe they were siblings. All black and dark-eyed, he could not look more different from his bright eye-catching sister. But nevertheless, she knew him better than anyone and he could tell from the look on her face that she knew exactly what he was thinking. When she asked the inevitable question, her voice was dry with a thin layer of calm, just barely containing excitement. "You like her?"

Quaxo shrugged. He made a futile attempt at playing it off. "Sure. She's nice."

Victoria rolled her eyes and sighed. Somehow she managed to make it sound like a giggle. "Quaxo, you know what I mean." When he didn't answer, she wrapped her tail reassuringly about his shoulders. She leaned in conspiratorially. "I thought you were _kidding_ when you told me last time."

Last time. When had been the last time he had come even remotely close to explaining his feelings for the calico? It had probably been when they were still very young kits. Jemima had been his childhood crush for a long while. He might've mentioned it to his sister once or twice. At that time though, it had been nothing but playful. However, as he had developed into maturity, Quaxo found himself more and more shy when Jemima was around. He had _always_ been shy and socially awkward. His sister was the same, only slightly better than he. It helped, of course, that she didn't shoot lightning bolts out of her paws…

Victoria was still watching him quietly, that look in her eyes that had always meant trouble to him. "You really _do_, don't you?"

Again, he shrugged, non-committal. That was answer enough for her, however.

"Quaxo, why didn't you _tell _me! This is kind of a big deal, you know. She's my best friend! I could've said something! I _will _say something."

He took his time before answering, contemplating what to say. Her tail dropped slowly from his shoulder, trickling down his arm. "I didn't tell you because I knew you were going to say something," Quaxo finally said. His voice was quiet. He began to edge towards the edge of the TSE-1, suddenly wanting to get away. Victoria was still looking at him. He couldn't see her; he was facing away, but he knew all the same. "And don't you dare tell her."

"That doesn't make any sense," she said. Her voice was a mixture of disbelief and confusion. Perhaps there was a hint of amusement in there too. Quaxo slid down from the car hood in silence, not answering. He heard her call his name half-heartedly, but by then he was already far away.

It was so weird seeing Jemima with someone else. He had always liked her in that amazed fan-loves-superstar sort of way. He liked her, but had never thought about a relationship. It didn't seem possible. Not only _them _having a relationship, but the impossible-ness extended to her having a relationship with anyone else. They were in that weird stage of life where kittens were slowly transforming into toms and queens, and nobody was quite sure what they were. They were children, and it had been a childhood crush. That was all it had ever been. A crush.

Except it was so much more than that. And in the last week that Tumblebrutus had been holding hands with Jemima, Quaxo had begun to realize this. The way she had reacted when he had asked her about him, her cheeks colouring slightly and her ears perking up-it had been so sweet. She was gentle in a way that no one else had ever been to him, except maybe Coricopat when he had first guided kit-Quaxo around the Yard. And, to put it frankly, he found it impossible to want anyone else.

Would it have made a difference if Jemima had known his feelings? Probably not. Even now, he wasn't entirely sure _what _he was feeling. But in any case, a part of him had suspected that Tumblebrutus would ask her eventually. Not so soon, of course. A couple weeks ago the thought of a queenfriend had still seemed light-years away. But a part of him had always expected it. He might've even been disappointed if it hadn't happened. And besides, Tumble was a nice guy. So…Quaxo should just move on, right? She had a tomfriend and was happy. That should make him happy too, if he really cared about her.

"Ugh," Quaxo said out loud, and slunk his way towards his den, wanting a nap. He moved forwards and suddenly her presence was there, like a breath on light airy wings. She surrounded his thoughts, clouded his vision, and although it seemed new, she had always been there. A part of his subconscious realized this, and it also realized that she would never, ever leave.

**Another A/N: A bit of a weird note to leave it on. Anywhoo, please review and thanks for reading! :)**


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